Writing School
by Kokoro893
Summary: A Collection of Drabbles written for IWSC Writing School
1. Chapter 1

Writing School - Issue Two

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

Dialog Tags and Action Beats

(Magical Ability) Animagus

Word Count: 734

* * *

**Round Two**

Looking at the floor-length mirror, a slender grey-striped cat was looking back at her. Its yellow eyes were lined by a black mask reminiscent of a raccoon but the young witch knew better than that.

She had never been blessed with good eyesight and the unusual coloration was merely a testament to that. Seeing herself in the mirror as a cat was the most satisfying thing she could imagine. Clumsily wriggling with her tail, she noticed that it didn't nearly look natural but that was of no importance to her.

She felt empowered. All her hard work was paying off. It wasn't the first time she had seen her cat-self but it never failed to amaze her.

"Well done. Now turn back if you please," a male voice spoke from behind her.

She closed her eyes and focused. She felt the magic pulsate through her entire body; her ears and toes were tingling. Opening her eyes slowly she found herself standing on two human legs. She was breathing heavily and her head was spinning.

"Your turns are getting swifter and swifter with each time. You never fail to amaze me, Minerva," the brown-haired wizard said while his blue eyes wandered over her body.

"Thank you, professor," the young witch replied.

"There is only one thing you keep forgetting," he started and she felt her throat tighten, "I haven't been your professor in years, it's Albus for you. We're friends now and by the looks of it you could teach me more about transfiguration then the other way around."

Minerva blushed. Nothing made her more proud then receiving compliments form the professor she had always looked up to.

"The wonder of becoming an Animagus; this is truly a masterpiece," he said.

She nodded wondering if her practicing was going to be enough to impress the Committee of Transfiguration Masters and to ear her place among them. Maybe she should have chosen something simpler than becoming only the thrid registered Animagus of the century but she had always dreamt of being one so she took the chance without overthinking it.

Minerva was glad that she found in Dumbledore a likeminded wizard to help her practice.

"I'm turning back into a cat," she announced.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and there was this beautiful animal again, staring back at her from the mirror. She turned around to make sure that all her body parts were properly transfigured. Eyeing herself for longer than necessary, Minerva heard her former professor clear his throat.

"It's time for you to show your human face again," he said.

He was right. She came by to practice and not to ogle herself. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the magic circulating through her body. But something was wrong. Opening her eyes she found herself still looking like a cat. She gasped for air and wriggled with her tail. Minerva wanted to cry but her current form wouldn't allow it.

"Just focus," Albus said.

She tried and tried again. Each time it got harder to focus. She just wanted to get out of her entrapment.

After a while, he asked her, " Do you need my assistance?"

She nodded hastily trying to suppress the urge to scratch his legs open with her long claws.

He cast a quick spell and Minerva was once again human.

Her long hair was looking messy, tears were running down her cheeks and she was breathing heavily.

"It's alright. You are brilliant. All you need to do is forget how dangerous transfiguring yourself is. You should continue to practice, I'll never be gone far, in case you do need me," Dumbledore added.

Sitting on the floor all by herself she took a deep breath and turned into a cat. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and turned back. She repeated this for few times until she got stuck in her feline body again.

Minerva was about to panic when she remembered to stay clam. She was still fully in her cat-form and not some painful mixture, that must count for something. Strolling through the room for a few minutes to calm down, she decided to try again.

"I told you, you can do it on your own," Albus said.

"You have never left the room, have you?" she asked him with a scrutinizing gaze.

He chuckled and replied, "You are indeed very observant."


	2. Chapter 2

Writing School - Issue Three

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

Making Dialog Flow

(dialog) "That's how you get away with murder."

Word count: 949

* * *

**Round Three**

"Be upstanding," the Chief Warlock said opening the third day of trial.

Everyone in the crowded courtroom obeyed. Hermione slowly walked to the table in the middle. There the questioned person was magically bound to a chair. She tried her best not to stumble over her formal dress-robes on her way, knowing that almost the entire British wizarding population was watching her.

While she had testified before, that had been in an office in the Auror department and not at a public trial and therefore did little to ease her nerves. She was afraid of doing something wrong and letting her friends down. The Wizengamot may have significantly shrunk due to the war, but they were still intimidating wearing purple ceremonial robes with an embroidered W.

"Do you know the accused, Lucius Malfoy?"

"Not well, our paths have crossed, but… we haven't chatted or anything," Hermione said with a dry throat.

"You're under an oath," the Chief Warlock reminded her, "I know this is hard for you, but what happened at Malfoy Manor?"

"I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange," she said trying to stay strong.

"And what did the accused do?"

"Nothing."

"I feared for the life of my family," Mr. Malfoy insisted.

"The accused had testified earlier that he merely acted out of fear. What is your assessment, regarding the events preluding the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"He and his family did appear to be suffering. Mr. Malfoy was looking poorly, he had not showered or shaved."

"Did you actually witness the accused commit any crimes?"

"Other than breaking into the Ministry-"

"For which I have been already trailed and sentenced."

Fidgeting with her fingers, as she didn't like how this was going. Without any further evidence, there was a real chance that Voldemort's right-hand-man would walk free. Hermione thought about Buckbeak's hearing, for which she had spent months preparing and Malfoy still managed to get the innocent creature sentenced to death. While Buckbeak survived she was still sore about losing against the elder Malfoy and didn't want to let this happen again.

Hermione took a deep breath. "There is still the murder of Mr. Boderick Bode after having been put under the Imperius Curse by Mr. Malfoy."

A humming echoed through the courtroom as everybody in the large crowd needed to discuss the newly presented information. Looking at Malfoy she found that his face betrayed nothing. The chief warlock used a gavel to silence the room.

Turning to Hermione, she eyed her with suspicion. "Mr. Walden Macnair handed the Devil's Snare to the victim on the 24th of December 1995."

"Macnair was an executor who enjoyed decapitating. Using a plant was not his style," Hermione said.

* * *

After a three-hour-long break, the Auror department managed to find another witness. The former Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge admitted to having hired Mr. Macnair as a favor to his old friend Lucius, who he had absolutely no idea that he was a death eater and who helped fund his campaign.

By the end of the day, it seemed clear that the Malfoy-patriarch would be sent to Azkaban for good. Draco was even more rude to Harry, Ron and Hermione then usual and the Daily Prophet issued a special edition spreading the news even further. With only Harry left as the last witness, Ron was in a cheery mood.

* * *

To everyone's surprise, Mr. Malfoy didn't even try to discredit Fudge in front of the Wizengamot. Instead, he straight out denied having ever used an Unforgivable and asked Harry why he thought he did.

"I saw it! I saw how Rockwood told Voldemort."

The entire courtroom gasped at Harry using _his_ name.

"Well, from what I understand, this is not a foolproof method of communication."

"You know nothing about what it feels like to have Voldemort in your head!"

Malfoy exposed his wrist and showed Harry and the Wizengamot his Dark Mark. "I think, I know more than enough about being abused and manipulated by… You-Know-Who."

Hermione bit her lip. His display of vulnerability and compassion to Harry impressed not only the members of the Wizengamot in purple but also the spectators. They were losing their ground, fast.

He hid it quickly and looked at Harry. "Is it possible that Mr. Bode, may his soul rest in peace, might have reached out for the prophecy for Dumbledore's sake?"

"Dumbledore already knew the prophecy," Harry said.

"And do you have reason to believe that Mr. Bode was aware of this?" Mr. Malfoy asked and with that, the last bit of circumstantial evidence was disarmed.

* * *

An hour later he was cleared of all charges. Hermione didn't even wait until the end of the Chief Warlock's speech before storming out of the courtroom.

Out of sight, she stomped her foot onto the ground. Tears threatened to fall from her brown eyes; she wanted to gag him. She didn't know how he did it but he once again managed to avoid the consequences of his actions.

"My, my, who is being a sore loser here," Mr. Malfoy said.

She flinched. How did he manage to creep up to her so quickly?

"You used your death eater insider-knowledge to stay out of prison!"

He moved closer to her pushing her against the wall. She felt his heat radiated through her body. His hand was resting on her hip while he leaned forward. His lips were almost touching her ears. Shivers went through her spine as she felt his hot breath against her sensitive skin and her arms were covered in goosebumps. She stopped breathing and her heart-rate spiked.

His tongue caressed her ear as he whispered. "That's how you get away with murder."


	3. Chapter 3

Writing School - Issue Four

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

Commas

Use a comma after a dependent clause that starts a sentence.

Use commas to offset appositives from the rest of the sentence.

Use a comma after introductory adverbs.

(Plot Point) – Education equality

Word Count: 657

* * *

**Round Four**

At first, Mr. Hagrid hadn't thought much of it, the summer months were always busy. They had to personally contact the muggle-born students and they needed to help them purchase their supplies.

By August, his optimism had faded. The realization that there was no letter for his Rubeus hit him with full force. It felt like someone stabbed him or when his wife left him. His heart broke all over again.

Thinking about his own time at Hogwarts, the feasts, all the fun he had, and how proud he was when he was sorted into Hufflepuff, the idea that all this would be taken from his little boy just because he was a little taller than the other children was unbearable.

The short wizard didn't know what to do. His Rubeus was growing up very quickly. His first incident of accidental magic was witnessed by his mom. Fridwulfa was overwhelmed by that, and since she, as a giantess, wasn't able to perform magic herself, she had to wait for her husband to return and clear up the mess.

Determined to fight for his son's education, he charmed a poster. 'Education for All', it read. He took his boy by the hand and they went to Diagon Alley.

Mr. Hagrid bought his son all the supplies he needed except for the wand, that wasn't possible without the letter of acceptance from Hogwarts.

They sat down on the stairs leading to Gringott's and held the poster up high. Not many people were paying attention to the short mousy wizard and his oversized son. And those who did were either complaining about them taking up to much space or were voicing out their rejection of his little boy.

"My wife wasn't violent," Mr. Hagrid whispered.

It was true, Fridwulda may have been a rough giantess but she wasn't violent. She was a simple-minded woman who had trouble adjusting to normal life. They hadn't shared a bed because his wife preferred to sleep in a cave. It was probably for the best, considering she was three times his height and five times his weight.

Every morning, Mr. Hagrid got up at six, made food for them, took Rubeus and they went to Diagon Alley for their silent protest. They stayed there until 8 pm, not gaining much attention.

The gray-striped cat wasn't getting much attention either. Seeing them she, at first, had laughed it off. This was clearly the most pathetic protest she had ever seen but as time passed, she became gradually more and more intrigued.

The short, almost invisible wizard showed an impressive amount of persistence. She made a point to watch and observe them. The half-giant was sharing his bread with the pigeons. It wasn't until she saw the boy turn the hair of a lady who insulted them blue that she decided to act.

With a sheet of math exercises and the Daily Prophet, she approached them. "Can you read that out loud for me," Minerva asked handing the boy the newspaper.

Rubeus started to read. It wasn't as fluent as the other children his age she had thaught but it was sufficient. With a crooked handwriting, the half-giant was able to solve the simple mathematical equations.

Showing her results to Albus, the two of them went to Headmaster Dippet; the boy deserved a chance.

"No one wants to educate a half-giant."

"We do," Minerva and Albus said simultaneously.

"Even if, that doesn't mean a giant is teachable."

"Mr. Rubeus Hagrid is," Minerva said handing the headmaster the exercise sheet.

Dippet sighed. "That still doesn't mean he is capable of doing magic."

"I saw him," Minerva insisted.

It wasn't until a lengthy discussion and Albus promising the Headmaster to personally keep an eye on the student, that Minerva was finally able to hand Hagrid his Hogwarts-letter.

He smiled broadly, being finally able to get a wand, the day before the Hogwarts Express left.


	4. Chapter 4

Writing School - Issue Five

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

Flashbacks

(action) waiting

Word Count: 636

* * *

**Round Five**

Her heels clicked loudly as she walked down the hallway. Each step caused an echo that bounced off the hard walls. Her hand held tightly onto a folder filled to the brim with documents. She mentally checked if she hadn't forgotten anything important. Of course, she hadn't. She had double and triple checked it before coming.

A huge weight pressed on her chest. Every breath she took was painful. She slowly approached the secretary. Her mind went blank and her throat was dry. She didn't know what to say.

"You can sit over there, Miss Granger. Mr. Miller will be available for you in a few minutes," the secretary said.

Sitting down, her entire body was tense. She would be aching tomorrow but that seemed like a lifetime away.

The scratching of a quill on parchment was audible. It was annoying. Apart of her wanted to jump up and tear the quill out of her perfectly manicured hands and shove it into her mouth before hexing her straight, blonde hair off.

The lace of her pink bra lurked out through the neckline of her white top. A golden cross disappeared between her sizable breasts. Hermione wanted nothing more then strangulate the witch.

She had just come home after a long day of work. Having kicked off her shoes, she had dropped her bag onto the chair. Quickly shedding her robes, she took a deep breath. Noises were coming from their bedroom.

"Ron?"

No response. She rushed to their bedroom. Opening the door she found her husband, his head buried between a pair of gigantic breasts. Hermione only got a glimpse of her long, straight, blonde hair before she fled the scene.

She cast a couple of spells. All of her belongings flew inside of her handbag. She stormed out of their flat. Out in the open, she had inhaled sharply before sinking to the ground.

"Hermione, We haven't seen you in a while."

She turned around. With her hands still formed to a fist and her teeth clenched, she turned around. Molly and Arthur were standing next to her. That was the last thing she needed.

"I'm just handing in the divorce-documents," Hermione said.

Molly huffed. "Sure, you both have made mistakes but-"

"Both of us? I have never cheated on my husband! How could you say something like that?"

Molly huffed again. "You are only thinking about yourself. You're always at work and never at home to care for our Ronnikins."

Hermione closed her eyes. She turned her head to the side. Her fingers dug into her thighs with force, bruising her skin in the process. She wanted to scream and to fight, to hex her mother-in-law but she was simply too furious to do anything.

It wasn't her fault that Ron never got over his insecurities. Nor was it her job to take care of him. He was an adult who was responsible for his own life and happiness.

For too long she held onto their relationship, not wanting to abandon her best friend, hoping that one day he would grow up and be the supportive husband she needed. Couldn't he understand that she wanted him to cook for them every once in a while? That she hated it when he was out drinking with his colleagues instead of spending time with her or helping her with the chores?

But for all his flaws, never in her life had she thought that he would betray her like this. Never in her life had she thought that he would stoop so low. And never in her life had she thought that she would have to justify herself for breaking up with him.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Miller, is ready for you," the blonde secretary said.

Hermione took a deep breath before entering the office.


	5. Chapter 5

**Writing School - Practice Round**

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

(emotion) cabin fever

Word Count: 662

* * *

**Practice Round**

He was sitting behind his big wooden desk. His hands were tapping against the wooden surface and his feet refused to stay on the ground. Every few seconds he looked at the clock and each time he was once again disappointed by how little time had passed.

Not that it mattered, the Chief Warlock hadn't given him a time frame, not even a hint, on how long the Wizengamot was going to take discussing and voting on his case. He hadn't done anything wrong and no punishment awaited him but there was a real chance that he might not come out victorious from the vote of non-confidence.

He had only acted in the best interest of the magical people of Britain and Ireland, Cornelius Fudge told himself. It wasn't his fault that he-who-must-not-be-named returned. If anybody was responsible for this mess then it was this noisy Potter-boy and Dumbledore who sabotaged him.

No, he had done nothing wrong, they couldn't just sack him. He knew people.

Not being able to sit on his chair for any longer, he stood up. Pacing through his office, he brought his hands into his hair pulling on it. He walked in circles through his big office, around his desk. He paid close attention to the sounds his Oxford's were making with every step he took.

He sighed. Liking to hear the sound of his voice he did it again; more loudly the second time. His gaze wandered to the big grandfather clock. Had it's ticking been always that loud?

Losing his patience he walked straight to the door, His hand touched the handle. The coldness of the metal went through his entire body. He flinched and took a step back. He took a series of breaths.

Loosening his tie he wondered if it had been always that hot in here. He stomped his feet onto the ground.

Almost sprinting to the door he was determined to get out of here. He needed fresh air. Pressing the door handle down he had to realize that he was locked inside.

His hand formed a fist. He wanted to slam it against the door.

That was ridiculous. He was the Minister of Magic. They couldn't just lock him up. He would find out who was responsible for that and make sure he'll be making coffee for the rest of his life.

He let out a groan. Back to pacing through his office. His steps got increasingly more erratic. He couldn't make up his mind. Did he want to go left or turn right? Stanging in front of the wall he banged his head against it for a couple of times. Feeling dizzy, he took a couple of steps back.

He removed his outer robes. His stomach grumbled. How he would love to get some freshly baked pie and a bit of ice-cream. Lowering himself to the ground, he realized that he could be at a pub drinking Butterbeer instead. He lied on the floor, staring at the ceiling. How much longer did he have to live through this ordeal? He began rolling over the floor. He didn't know why he was doing it, but he just needed to do something.

Hearing voices from the other side of the door he jumped up. He was finally getting out of this office. His suffering was going to end. He quickly made himself look presentable. As Minister od Magic he couldn't be seen lying on the ground.

He rushed to his desk and sat down. Crossing his arms in front of his chest he turned his chair around to face the wall opposite to the door. He heard steps approaching him.

"Mr. Fudge," the Chief Warlock said.

He counted to three before turning around. Trying his best to look indifferent, he looked at the witch.

"We have to inform you that Pius Thicknesse was elected to be the new Minister of Magic. You have 30 minutes to clear the office."


	6. Chapter 6

Writing School

Mahoutokoro, Year 7

en-, em-dashes

(character) Dobby

Word Count: 501

* * *

**Round Seven**

Some people think that the houseleves' lives are difficult because their masters are demanding and the workload is excessive. Some people think that the houseelves' lives are difficult because they lack freedom and independence. And some people think that the houseelves' lives are difficult because of the pain and torture that is inflicted upon them.

But I can tell you that the houseelves' lives are difficult because of the family. It isn't the cruelty they inflict upon the elf it is the miscommunication. Can't they start communicating just for once? Can't they understand that houseelves are their most happy when they can work peacefully, far away from humans?

He had slept in, again. Dobby entered the kitchen. Breakfast was already prepared and ready. The other elves had left for different chores. Left alone in the kitchen he levitated the pancakes from the stove and severed them in the breakfast room. How he hated serving the Masters.

Narcissa sneered at the pancakes. "They are cold."

"I is so sorry," Dobby said.

"Iron your ears," she demanded.

Dobby retrieved coles from the fire and filled them into the iron. He hissed and squeaked as the hot metal touched his sensitive ears. It was painful. Why did he have to do it, it wasn't even his fault that the pancakes were cold.

Once he was finished and his ear smelling liked baked beacon, he took the teapot and filled their cups. Young Master was too eager and spilled the hot liquid all over his robes.

"Ouch! This stupid houseelf tried to kill me," Draco screamed jumping up from the table.

He knocked the chair and vase off in turn, creating a mess.

Narcissa stood up from the table. "Clean this, and then go tell my husband that my mother is coming over from 16–17 o'clock, and then you will hammer your fingers."

Dobby dreaded going to his Master's study. He knew the wizard wasn't overly fond of his mother-in-law and he didn't want to be punished again. Luckily for him, the Master of the Manor didn't want to talk to him.

Returning to the sitting room he started hammering the vase onto his fingers. Again and again. Dobby was sure that something must be broken by now.

"Stop it! You useless creature!" Lucius barked.

"But Mistress said—"

"I do not want to hear it." He felt for his study.

He wasn't out yet out of sight when the Young Master started kicking his foot against the cupboard.

Lucius stopped and turned around. "What have I told you?"

Dobby wanted to defend himself but couldn't. There was no way he could disobey his master.

"Iron your ears."

He winced. Again? They were still hurting from the previous ironing session. Compelled by the magic, he retrieved the iron. Once he started, the Master returned to his study. He was still ironing his ears when Narcissa entered the room.

"Have I not told you to hammer your finger?"

Dobby let out a squeal of agony.


End file.
